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Friday, October 12, 2007

One backed out, so there are nine little girls scattered throughout my house right now.

When the evening started, they all played together, one united forced dedicated solely to chasing my only son around the house relentlessly. He's such a little playa that he loved every second of it. But after the only boy left, the divisions began. And somehow, one tree in my backyard was named the "sad tree" and several girls took turns crying under it. They're freakin' ten and eleven - WHAT do they have to be sad about? Oh yeah, breathing, split ends and the end of the latest sale at the mall.

And WHEN did tweens learn to pop, lock and drop? And more importantly, WHY were they taught to pop, lock and drop? I am 34 years old and not once in my life have I popped or locked or dropped - unless you count popping popcorn, locking my toddlers in their room with a baby gate so I can take a shower without them eating tampons or 13 ponytail holders and dropping a Vanish Drop-In in the toilet tank. If that's popping, locking and dropping then yeah, I'm all over it - but this booty shakin'??? Omg. Just omg.

At this point I am undecided as to whether I want to chaperone their Proms in order to keep the popping and locking to a minimum or whether I just want to stay at home and pray the entire time they're shakin' their respective groove thangs.

LOL - Just now Abby's BFF Gabby, who has stayed over here several times, came out here. When I asked her what she was doin', she replied, "Ohhh, just watchin' 'em dirty dance." I nearly fell outta my chair laughing.

Right now, they seem to be one united force again. Of course, it was the spirit of the dance that brought them together, so ummm.....yeah.

It cracks me up to watch Abby in there dancing with them - she's so very white and so very redneck and she looks like Bambi with those long ol' legs goin' every which way and she is just so very, very uncoordinated. Bless her heart, she dances like her mother. And her father. Geez, our children have no chance whatsoever - they're destined to a life of sitting on the bleachers, watching their friends dance and just waiting for a slow song so they can get up and stop looking so pitiful. Unless they decide to clog or two-step. If they go that route, then they have a pretty good chance of having some mad skillz in the country and western/folk/dance at the local nursing homes and sidewalk sales category.

My niece, TotOne, is out here with me watching SuperFriends on Boomerang. She's the young'n of the group. The girl that didn't get to come was the other 4th grader, so that's left TotOne the odd girl out a few times this evening. But she's so good-natured and sweet that she hasn't gotten upset about it at all - she and I have had lots of time to snuggle and watch old cartoons and discuss if we were the WonderTwins, what we'd "activate" into. No, we aren't nerds at all. We are cool. I'm also thinking of teaching her to clog....

Oh and my husband? You're wondering where my husband is? He's the mayor of Wussville, if you ask me -

He left for the casino over 3 hours ago. I doubt I see him until I send him a text telling him the coast is clear and they're all finally asleep - probably some time around 4am. If I'm lucky.

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Strangely enough, it's all true.

I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me what I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.